Cool for the Summer
by NVSTY
Summary: John Shepard was trying not to think about what his sister might be doing with Thane in the dark corners of Omega. Too bad Jack didn't have any sense of mercy. Shameless PWP, Shrios.


It's something they all needed, given the circumstances. With the odds stacked against them, spending the night partying in Afterlife was a pretty simple decision to make. John Shepard, Commander of the SSV Normandy, Council Spectre, was nothing if not considerate of his crew — also, he couldn't remember the last time he let himself relax and have fun.

Which was probably why, even against the expressed words of the Illusive Man, he recruited his sister Chloe for the mission. She knew her way around a gun, and was — as of a year ago — a N7 graduate. He missed the ceremony on account of being dead, but hopefully letting her loose on Omega before they went through the relay ( with no guaranteed return ) would be a good enough present for that accomplishment.

That, and, well, no freaking out, big brother style, that both she, and Thane, were nowhere to be found. Okay, well, he was still kind of freaking out, because he knew exactly why they were gone and really wanted to stop thinking about it.

But he liked Thane, really, he did, so he wasn't going to mess it up.

Which meant he needed a lot more shots to forget about that the assassin may, or may not, be doing to his ( admittedly, badass ) baby sister.

His forehead promptly slams down on the bar top with a groan.

Goddamnit.

When he speaks, it's muffled against the smooth countertop, and his own compounding horror, "Bartender, get me your biggest bottle of the strongest stuff you've got that won't kill me, but'll bring me close enough. "

 ****CFTS****

John's idea for this bash was pretty much the best idea ever. Sure, she had been the one to suggest it a few weeks ago during one of their late night insomniac conversations, but she wasn't the commander of the ship. So really, all she could do was persuade him post-pone the inevitable and let everyone, including himself, take a breather.

There still could be weeks before they were ready to go through the relay; but, it could just as easily be days. Partying was definitely the least they could do for themselves, let off a little steam, have some drinks with the squad, maybe get into some trouble—-

"— Oh my god."

Or, in her case, barely back it to some abandoned back room after dancing hotly with a very attractive alien, who's head was now firmly situated between her thighs. Chloe did not, previously, consider herself a xenophobe.

She never counted aliens out when it came to attractiveness, because she had been intrigued before; she could see why others would find them appealing. It just hadn't happened to her ( thought it had been close with Garrus, with his smart ass remarks ). But, with Thane? It was like a punch to the gut, both because he was deeply attractive, and so easy to get get along with. Open up to.

In more ways then one, it would appear.

Leaning back onto the couch, her fingers found their way to the velvety frills along his neck, stroking the soft flesh in time with the languid swipes of his tongue.

Chloe didn't know if he had slept with humans before — wasn't about to stop and ask — or if female drell anatomy was even remotely similar. But damn, he was either a really quick learner ( completely possible ) or just a damn natural at eating out.

His fingers are firmly curled around her spread thighs, pressure increasing briefly periodically when she brushed over a patricianly sensitive spot on his neck. Oh, she was so going to exploit that hot zone later, you know, when she wasn't on her way to have a fucking mind blowing orgasm.

Multi-color lights dancing across pale skin was the only conscious reminder she had as to where she was. The noise of the dace floor was nothing more than background noise, loud and insistent, but it was difficult to focus on anything that the amazing sensations of Thane's tongue, and her own moans.

Drell women did not get wet when sexually aroused; when it came to his species, it was the male was self-lubricated. There were other physical tells on them, of course — a faint change to scale color in certain areas, or a darkening of the frill.

But there was something undeniably erotic about this type of physical evidence of how much she wanted him.

Having her taste on his tongue, so potently, was akin to a drug. Even if he did not have a perfect memory, it would be impossible for him to forget how she sounded, how she tasted, how it felt to be ( oh so willingly ) trapped between her thighs. Not that he would ever wish to, of course.

She was immensely responsive, back arching off the couch, hips attempting to grind onto his mouth. The tantalizing dress she wore was hiked up, passed her hips, the lacy, wet undergarments flung elsewhere. He didn't know what to expect when it came to being intimidate with a human. Granted, it hadn't stopped his…..thoughts on the matter, particularly after doing a bit of research. Still, words and videos could only do so much, and they certainly never covered how addicting she would taste.

A low, rumbling purr begun to build in his throat, tongue sliding between the delicate, pink flesh of her sex. When his textured tongue slid over the sensitive bundle of nerves, his name was falling from her mouth like a prayer, head thrown back in a splay of white-blonde hair. The thrumming within his chest deepened, mouth working over her sex with eager, precise swipes; every delicious reaction from her fully imprinted into his brain.

One hand released her thigh, trailing further inward. Mouth enclosing along her clit, his fused fingers press into her heat. Hips pressing against the couch to relieve some of the pressure of his throbbing erection.

Keeping a slow, continuous thrusting pace, his fingers curled within her and Chloe's thighs quivered, her whole body tightening with tension for a moment, before it let go. Mouth falling open in a breathless cry, she clenched around his thighs ( and fingers ), releasing more of her essence onto his tongue.

The insistent throb in his loins was near impossible to ignore, more so when the woman he desperately wished to join with was writhing below his mouth, riding the high of a rather ego-boosting orgasm.

Her mind is still a bit hazy, body shivering faintly from the aftershocks still, because damn. God-fucking-damn. Dimly, she's aware of him moving. Warm lips peppering kisses down her leg, all the way to her ankles, the tips of his fingers brushing over the suede platform heels. Those, while bought to add a few inches to her short stature, were definitely a great investment.

Not only because the impressive heel boosted her to a leggy five-foot-eight, but he seemed to really, really like them.

"Thane, " Breathless and thick with lust, her voice got the desired response, a full-bodied groan from the drell. He crawled up her body with agonizing slowness, the thick press of his erection unmistakable against her skin, reigniting the burn in her gut.

Grabbing him by the collar, she pulls him down for a kiss, mouth moving eagerly over his, biting at his lower lip. Emboldened by the drell's passionate return, her tongue slide along his, the faint drug-like effect of his saliva only heightening her senses. His hands gripped at her flesh, her thighs, her hips, her breasts.

Even through the fabric of her dress, the gentle massaging of his hand at her wiggling beneath him, nails sliding over the taught scales along his chest. Following the lean lines of his body, her hand brushes across his obvious desire, drawing out a guttural hiss from Thane; one she happily swallowed.

Slipping beneath the thigh leather of his pants, she is surprised, and delighted to find there is no other fabric in the way. Her palm presses over the heated flesh, fingers curling around his thick length with a groan of her own. His skin is hot, and slick, with distinct ridges along the underside of his length.

It's similar enough from touch alone that she doesn't think they need to worry about compatibility in that area, but different enough that it only added to her excitement. He abandoned her mouth to bite and suck along the light skin of her neck, thrusting almost helplessly into her hands, needing friction, needing some kind of relief. She can sympathize — her sex is throbbing again already, and if he doesn't fuck her soon, she might actually die.

 ****CFTS****

John hated Jack sometimes, he really, truly did.

The woman had a mean streak for miles, but she was as loyal as the rest of them when it came down to it. Only downside was, she didn't really care to have a brain-to-mouth filter. Mostly because the biotic liked pissing people off, or making them insanely uncomfortable.

And right now?

She was doing the latter.

"I'm serious, though, Johnny! "

It's becoming increasingly more tempting to bang his head against the countertop, given the current topic of conversation. "Yeah, so was I. I don't wanna know, Jack. Don't need to know."

"But we're friends, you know? Friends talk about this kind of stuff. And let me tell you, Johnny—"

"No, please don't, for the love of God— "

"—I would climb him like a tree. Never thought I'd say that about an alien before, but here we are. Damn, your sister is a lucky bitch."

"—damnit. ."

 ****CFTS****

Blood running hot, he does not recall working the leather of his hips, and it is only the cooler air that makes him realize his flesh is exposed. It is extremely likely that amidst his distraction of her skin, the softness of her flesh, she tugged the waist of his pants down his thighs.

Multi-tasking tended to be a very adaptable task for her, from his observations.

There isn't long to dwell on such things thought, not with her hand tightening around him, using his natural lubricant to her advantage. His breath quickens in time with the pace of her ministrations, her dexterous thumb swiping over the slit at the top.

As thoroughly trained assassin, he has killed hundreds of people of all species. His reputation is well earned, and rarely does he make mistakes. Yet here, above the petite form of Chloe Shepard, he is a quivering mess. Breathing along the skin of her neck with warm puffs of air, he follows her hand, lost in the motions for a few moments. Thane nearly comes apart in her hands, and despite the ache in the pit of his stomach, he manages to, if only just barely, stop that from occurring.

His hands shoots down, catching her own in a firm gasp. Both are pinned above her head within his pam, and once more, he is amazed at how tiny she is in comparison to him. Barely five-foot-four with a slender figure, most would dismiss her as a threat. He knew better, of course. Knew even that without her armor and favored pistol, she was a force to be reckoned with. Her body housed a fierce will and explosive wrath that rivaled forces of nature.

Despite how he thought of her an angel, an extraordinary woman he wanted to protect with every fiber of his being, she did not need it. She did not need his worship, did not need his gun; but she had it nevertheless, and she accepted it.

She was a wonder of interconnecting stars and constellations, of contradictions and intrigue, and he was helplessly, willingly drawn into her gravity.

The fact that she wanted him, to of anyone, was more humbling than he could express; and to be able to taste her skin, to see her wrapped in lust was more heady than any drug he could imagine. Her hips pressed against his, insistent in the silent plea, her normally bright, grey eyes clouded and darkened with desire, chest rising and falling with each intake of breath.

Thane was unable to resist her — as if there was any possibility of anything else.

Pressing open-mouthed kisses down the column of her neck and the tops of her breasts, he wrapped a hand around his sex, and presses toward. Teasing, testing, his length slid erotically along her folds, adding to the wetness of her own desire. Her body tensed several times when one of his ridges brushed over the bundle of nerves at the top, seeking far more than she was receiving at the moment.

The frustrated groan she released turned the corners of his mouth upward in amusement, but only for a moment. Her legs wrapped securely around his hips, drawing him tantalizingly closer, encouraging him. What manner of man would he be to deny her wishes?

Swallowing thickly, he can scarcely hear anything beyond the thudding of his heart against his ribs. Releasing her hands, Thane anchored himself on the couch, slowly rolling his hips into hers, burying the entirety of his length into her tight, wet heat.

For a few moments, he does not dare to even breathe, mind seemingly stalling against the onslaught of pleasurable sensations assaulting every nerve in his body. Her muscles wrapped around him exquisitely, the extra lubrication from her own wetness making the slide into her body even slicker. And gods, she was so hot inside, it was nearly unbearable.

Yet, he wants nothing more than to drive into her, feel the pull and slide of her against him, and revel in the overload of ecstasy together. Her eyes are wide open, bottom lip caught between her teeth as her body shivers; when she shifts her hips, a raspy groan tears from his throat, and her thighs tighten against his hips.

"Move." It is a simple command, but laced with the dark undertones of lust, it makes his body burn for her even more.

That was all the assurance he needed. And it was sweet, really. giving her time to adjust — which had been necessary. Between the fact that she hadn't done anything even remotely penetrative in over a year, and his impressive size, she was feeling delightfully stretched in all the best ways.

And that was before he started moving.

Fingers biting into the muscles of his back, he was utterly merciless with her, and it was ridiculously hot, really. Too many people, even lovers, tended to treat her like she was this fragile flower, but she wasn't — so this was a welcomed change of pace. Slow sex could be great, passionate and mind blowing, but raw, rough, fast sex was just what the doctor ordered today.

Speaking of, there'd be one hell of a talk with Mordin later, but right now she couldn't find it in herself to care about the consequences.

Arching her back she moaned, every inch of him inside of her sending pleasurable sparks up her spine as he thrust into her. His movements were quick and hard, scales sliding along skin, his teeth sure to leave bruises and bite marks on her breasts.

He felt so fucking good inside her, hitting places that made her see stars. God, she was going to be so sore and exhausted tomorrow, but it was going to be so worth it.

For a brief moment, he slowed his rhythmic pouncing, causing her to whine at the languid, torturous slide of his cock inside her. One of her legs ( still with a heel, no less ) was hooked over his shoulder, causing her hips to angle upward and pull flush against his.

The change, however slight, seemed to add a new depth and added sensation that left her toes curling. Thane growled, stilling completely for half a heart-beat, before slamming into her repeatedly harder than before, barely pulling his cock out from her before sheathing himself once more. "Siha," His voice is nothing more than a rumble against her skin, and she can't help but clench her muscles around him, because it sounds evenhotter right now.

Chloe is clawing at him, girding her hips onto his as best as she can given his brutal thrusting, voice growing hoarse because of her constant, loud moaning. She can feel an itch beginning to form on her stomach, but it's quickly pushed aside for more important things because, oh god.

Oh god, his fingers found their way between them to her clit and she was going to come again. "Thane," She manages to gasp, between the sounds he's pulling from her with each sharp roll of his hips, "Thane. Oh god, please. Please, I'm so close." Coherence falls off from there, senseless babbling and curses taking over when his fingers rub knowingly between her thighs.

Shit, shit, shit, perfect goddamn memory, it's stuck again. And she's writhing, nails raking along his textured skin, pulling sharp hisses and low groans from his throat, her name on his tongue. He's ordering her, telling her to let go, to come and shatter into a million pieces and she can't even pretend to be pissed because it works.

Crying out the tension in her body seizes up for a final moment, the knot in her stomach going impossibly tighter before it snapped. Warmth and pleasure explode behind her eyelids as she tightens around him, back arching off the couch as nirvana washes over every nerve in her body.

When she tightens around him he does not stop his furious pace, pounding into her with a tangible desperation. Between the feel of her constricting even more around him and the molten warmth of her sex, it only takes a few more thrusts before he presses himself into her as deep as he can go, his orgasm washing over him almost violently.

Heart hammering against his ribs, and loudly in his ears, Thane spills himself into her completely, a mixture of intense pleasure and relief spreading out from the base of his spine. Her walls are still fluttering around him, aftershocks of pleasure affecting her just as they were him, and he finds his throat is dry.

It appears as though he was more vocal than he thought, even if his sounds of ecstasy were drowned out, not only by her ( which was intensely flattering ), but by the thudding bas of the club. Blood cooling, if only for the moment, he reluctantly pulls out of her with a breathy moan, his sex hyper sensitive.

His gaze lingers on the apex between her thighs for a moment, almost entranced by the sight of her swollen, glistening lips — and as he feels a simmer of fire in his stomach, he entertains the notion of taking her again.

But, though he doubts she would mind, if the utterly happy, satiated look on her face was anything to go by, he could think of better places to worship her body. Places where he could do so for much longer, at his leisure, while he watched her squirm beneath his touch.

Those thoughts would be better saved for later, though. At the moment, he was more than content to pull her into his arms with a kiss, and listen to her laugh faintly at his purring, before they made themselves presentable once more.

It shouldn't be too much of a challenge to leave the club unseen, given the amount of booze the rest of the squad had consumed. And for that, he was grateful — it meant there was time before the inevitable, likely awkward, questions arose.

At least for tonight, all they needed to worry about was one another.


End file.
